She tells me to close my eyes, I hesitate for a moment not wanting to comply.
“I want you to think through what happened, remember every detail, then tell me aloud,” she said in a way that made me feel sick to my stomach.
Dr. Stroder, is a nice lady, smart, lean, spritely, but old, wise even. She is my therapist. We have been talking for around, four weeks now. I have gotten to know more about her, than I have about myself. Is that bad? Dr. Stroder hasn’t gotten past the fact that “the event,” as we call it, even happened. I think she wants me to repeat it so much, so she can except it, not me. This is the third time I have described it for her, but the first time with my eyes closed. Maybe, she thinks I will remember more. She said that she is doing this so she can better assess my situation.
“I remember when it happened. There was a snow storm. The windows were frosted, and I had drawn pictures in the fog that had accumulated from the heat of my room.”
I stop, I don't want to go on. Dr. Stroder waited for a bit, I always stop here.
“Go on,” she said tapping my shoulder signaling that I had to do as I was told, “I know that this is hard.”
“Then why ask me to go through this again? I have told the story so many times!”
“Because you cant do...” she pauses thinking of a word to describe the event, “that again. I don’t think that is you.”
“How can you know you have only known me for a month!”
“Ok, let me ask you this, do you want to get better?”
“Yes”
“Then I need you to tell me again. Now close your eyes and go back to the room with the
frosted windows.”
?I close my eyes and take a couple of long, deep breaths ,then continue.
“ I was at my desk, staring at the blank notebook page in front of me. I had just finished four other letters two, for my siblings and one, for my good-for-nothing step-dad. I wrote MOM in capital letters at the top of the paper. Problem was, I didn't know what to say, for all the other letters it was easy, I had already folded them and put them in envelopes, but id didn’t have anything to say. What would you say to your mom?”
She pauses like she is going to answer. I am interested in her answer.
“What did you say?”
Not surprised, I move along answering her question.
“ I didn’t say anything. I left the paper blank on the desk, except of the word mom on the
top margin. I stood, tucked in my chair, and went to my closet. There was a box, on the very top shelf, in the far right corner. I grabbed it and took it to my bed. In it were all the things that made me happy.”
“Where is the book now?”
“Well, the box broke when we moved. I lost everything inside. I no longer have the box, but that doesn't really matter.”
“Could you make a new one?”
“Yeah, I guess, I could, but I think that it would only remind me of the event.”
“I see, what happened next?”
“After taking the box to my bed, I sat down leaning my back agents the pillows which
were resting on my wall behind my bed, this was a position I know well. Before, opening the box I looked back at the desk the blank paper resting in the middle. I felt tears come to my eyes. I whispered I am sorry, and opened the box.”
?My words trailed off, I was thinking of the contents of the box. I feel the warm, wet trail of a tear falling down my cheeks. I wish I still had my box! Dr. Stroder clears her throat, as soon as I hear it, I feel bad, I have been taking to much time.
“Are you ready to continue?”
“Yes, sorry, I was thinking of the box, but I will continue now.”
“Okay.”
“When I opened the box, I couldn’t hold it in, I cried, no I wept. The thoughts that were
running through my mind added to the feelings that I kept hidden in the box was just, too much. All these feelings, made me want the event to happen even more. I had decided, I shut the box and put it on my desk over the blank notebook page. I took out my carton, hidden in between my mattress and my box spring. Written on a sheet of paper at the bottom of the carton was my plan. I took it out hearing clinking metal and a sound kind of like beads when you spill them on the floor resinate in my ears. I read my plan aloud. Step one...”
I start crying again, I only notice because I felt the tears fall smoothly down my face and plop onto my pant legs, leaving little droplet marks behind. I can tell that Dr. Stroder is felling stressed on time, I am taking to long once again. She clears her throat once more, though this time it sounded more like hacking a loogie. She wants me to continue, but I don’t. This is where I should have stopped, This is where I made the wrong choice. If I don't tell her this part will that fix it? No, I was stupid, I already had my mind made up. I was still crying the tears tracing the same spots on my cheeks and they fell out of my eyes. I wait one more minute and wipe the tears away ready to go on.
“Start the shower. Step two, take them all! Step three, turn the water red. Finialy, step four, wait for the darkness. As I read the steps, I did the actions. Before step three, I waited for a minute just so the pain pills could take effect. Once enough time had passed, I started to ‘’draw,’’ deeper than usual. It stung as the warm water rolled over my arms, the water dripping
of my fingers a orange-red color. I sit down, a steady stream of water pouring over my head, I was looking at the tip of my hair the whole time. They were pink I had died them cause that was what all my friends thought was cool at the time. I was waiting, waiting for everything to fade to black. I was waiting to die. That was when I heard my mom come home. I turned off the water, then sat there for a moment longer, and still nothing happened, I didn't even feel faint. So, I got up, dried off, covered my arms, and walked to my room. I shredded the letters. After failing this I didn't want anyone to know about it. I have only told you the story. Please tell me that I don't have to tell it again?”
“No you don’t, this is our last session. Your mom said that she can’t afford it. You will never have to tell me again.”
“Oh...”
“I am sorry, I wish I could see you again.”
The room was silent. I had no words to say. It stayed like that till the session ended. The
whole time I was watching the clock, thinking about how I will miss this. When time ran out, I stood and left without another word. Bye Dr. Stroder...